looked like a pen-wiper or doll's bonnet, it was so
small, perched on the top of it; her face was powdered, and her manner
was one of languor and fine-ladyism, which she had cultivated so
assiduously and achieved so successfully. Not a muscle of her face
changed when she saw Jerrie, but she closed Maude's door quickly, and
stepping into the hall, offered the tips of her fingers, as she said, in
a fretful, rather than a welcoming tone:

'Good-morning. You are very late. Maude expected you two hours ago,
almost immediately after Tom went out. She has worked herself into a
great state of feverish nervousness.'

'I am so sorry,' Jerry replied. 'But I could not come sooner. I had a
large washing to do, and that takes time, you know.'

Jerry meant no reflection upon the days when Dolly had done her own
washing, and knew that it took time, but the thought she did, and a
frown settled upon her face as she replied:

'Surely your grandmother might have helped you, or Harold; and Maude is
so impatient and weak this morning. The doctor says there is no danger
if she is kept quiet. She is only tired out with that room of yours.
Why, I am told she has actually puttied up nail-holes, and painted
walls, and sawed boards! I hope you like it. You ought to, for a part of
Maude's life and strength is in it.'

'Oh, Mrs. Tracy,' Jerry cried, with tears in her eyes, 'I am so sorry.
Of course I like the room, or did; but if it has injured Maude, I shall
hate it.'

Dolly had given her a little stab and was satisfied, so she said in a
softer tone:

'Maude may recover--I think she will; but everything must be done to
please her, and she cannot talk to you this morning--remember that. You
must do the talking, but must not stay too long.'

'Mamma--mamma, let Jerrie in,' came faintly from the closed room; and
then Mrs. Tracy stood aside and let Jerrie pass into the luxurious
apartment, where Maude lay upon a silken couch, with a soft,
rose-colored shawl thrown over her shoulders, her eyes large and hollow,
and her face as white almost as a corpse.

One looking at her needed not to be told of her danger, or of the peril
there was in exciting her; and Jerrie felt a cold thrill creep over her
as she went to the couch, and kneeling beside it, kissed the pale,
quivering lips and smoothed the dark hair, while she tried to speak
naturally and cheerfully, as if in her mind there was no thought of
danger to the beautiful girl, who smiled so lovin